Griddle Project
by Ghash
Summary: A band of Imperial Guardsmen are sent to the icy wastes of Veraxus IV after the scientist there are killed. Treason lurks around every corner, but that is not all that looms in the dark...


**The Griddle Project**

**Prologue**: The icy wastes of Veraxus IV are terribly hostile. The wind bays and howls like a wolf. The snow lashes down on the foothills like an unkindly master beating a servant. Not one of the most attractive places to house a secret research station, but definitely one of the more practical.

Veraxus IV used to house a genetic research facility, where the Linden Cluster's most proficient scientific minds could be found. Unfortunately, contact was lost with the base a week ago. All radio transmissions seized. Supply ships never returned. The Imperium of Man had but one lead:

"We've done it! We've created the perfect super-predator. All systems are stable, more are on the way. _Nothing can go wrong._"

Melvin Griddle was the leader of the Veraxus IV research station, and thus the project was named after him. With one of the brightest minds available to the human race, Melvin had created a powerful super-laser and organized a huge colonization movement. Now, he was a cowardly little man trying to preserve the last few moments of his life.

The project was going well, everything according to plan. Then, a traitor scientist named Xenon; she turned the stasis field off. She let the…the THING out. She let it out. It killed everyone. All of them. Now it was after him.

A loud thump on the closest door jarred Melvin from his thoughts. Hiding in a small supply closest wasn't the brightest thing Melvin had ever done, but it was unfortunately the last. He whimpered as a huge 3-taloned fist tore through the closest door. The spindly fingers grasped the door-frame and tore the closest a new opening. A hideous growl echoed out side. Melvin quivered as the claw groped around the closest. Slowly, it came to a rest on Melvin's head. With a sickening crunch, the galaxy's brightest mind was lost to the world.

**The Story:** "Why the blazes are we on this deadbeat mission?" Private Victor Phillip yelled as he smashed the butt of his las-gun against the cold metal floor of the _Basilisk's Claw_. The _Basilisk's Claw_ was a small Aquila transport. It's smooth, black surface housed some of the most powerful weaponry systems discovered by man. Victor growled again. He always did this before a mission. Kind of strange, but as long as kept his mind from wandering to whatever they could be facing...

Sergeant Grant Williams sighed. He was the leader of the assembled group of top notch storm troopers. 11 in all, they were prepared to fight when and where they were needed. Sometimes, it embarrassed him how immaturely they acted. The Imperium had assigned them to Veraxus IV to find out what happened to the genetic research station. Grant shifted his left foot closer in to his body, to make sure he was far away enough from the team's 12th member.

A nasty alien mercenary. A Kroot. Only the Emperor knows why they were commisioned to make this thing follow them, but Ordo Xenos had insisted. It stood about 6 feet tall and had small, slender arms. It betrayed the creature's amazing ferocity, as it was able to lift up things many times its size. It had a beak-like snout and a quilled head. Resting on its lap was a ceremonial rifle, adorned with charms and hooked blades. Grant hated aliens. All of them.

"Two minutes till impact," the pilot reported over the ship-wide intercom. "Also, if you could refrain from damaging my ship, I'd appreciate that too," he added with more than a hint of sarcasm on in his voice. Victor snarled at the cockpit.

The gleam of metal pierced the cloud of snow as the ship came within range of the base. Then, everything fell apart. 3 bright explosions flashed from the base's roof as a salvo of missiles screamed through the air towards the _Basilisk's Claw_.

"Get down!" the pilot roared as he threw the ship in a lateral corkscrew to try and evade the projectiles. Alas, his efforts were in vain and the warheads plowed into the ship's hull and detonated.

Grant had already unlatched his safety harness and jumped by the time the ship began plummeting to the ground. The last thing he remembered was a charred piece of rubble smashing into his back, and then his unconscious body plummeted to the tundra wastes below.

Gleaming red eyes leered through the darkness. The hulking mass of the creature shifted as it scraped its claws on the wall. It had been trapped in the laboratory for days, and it was running out of food. It screamed and lashed another claw into the black metal. Soon…

Grant awoke to the sound of creaking metal and the smell of burning flesh. He slowly rose from the crater he'd made in the snow and looked around. Almost his entire team was dead. The few that had made it out before impact were lying on the ground with their limbs bent at odd angles. "$&!" he shouted.

"Watch your language, Sarge," a beaten voice said from the other side of the ship's hull. Jimmy, the youngest member of the team, walked around the side of the ship and chuckled. His small grin betrayed the pain in his left foot, which was bleeding.

"Thank the Emperor. I thought I was the only one who survived," Grant said softly as he bent over and picked up his las-gun. Amazingly, despite some bruises and aches, he was fine.

"No Sarge," Jimmy replied, "Victor and the Kroot survived."

"Good. We need hands right now," Grant stated. "We're moving out now. We have to radio for help from inside the laboratory."

The menacing shape of the Kroot jumped down from atop the ship. It's mawed head slwoly turned and it held up an auspex scanning unit. "I have detected no life signatures on the upper levels of the ship," it stated coldly in its squaking bird-like voice.

"Shut up, freak," Victor grumbled as he hobbled his way over to the group. He was clutching his right arm, which had a bloody tourniquet wrapped around it.

"Sarge, what shot us down?" Jimmy interjected, a feeble attempt to stop the two from fighting.

"It was the station's auto-defense mainframe. Nobody shut it off," Grant grunted. He spit one of his molars out into his hand.

"You think the scientists are still there, Sarge?" Jimmy asked as they began packing up their equipment.

"I don't know Jimmy. We can only hope," Grant replied. It was gonna be a long hike to the research station. "Let's lock and load boys. We're moving out."

"Hello-ooooo? Anybody home?" Victor shouted as the ragtag band of soldiers walked into the station's entrance hall.

"Shut up! You trying to get us killed?" Grant hissed as the mechanic doors slowly began sliding shut behind them. The soldiers were plunged into darkness and only their head-lamps illuminated the black.

"Don't worry, Sarge. They're just scientists," Victor shot back.

"Dead ones," Jimmy gasped as his beam illuminated the floor around them. He pointed to a rotting sack of bones strayed across the titanium. Someone dropped their rifle. Grant thought it was Victor. Bloody remains lay spattered across the walls. Skulls lay shattered on the floor.

"&$," Victor whispered as his flashlight fanned out across the room. "We've got to get out of here."

The soldiers walked into a vast hallway that led deeper into the base. Glowing, crystalline smoke swam across the ground. The alien lifted his head into the sir and took a long sniff. "Cryogenetics liquid. The stasis fields have been broken," the alien reported coldly.

Something moved in the fog. All the men raised their rifles and pointed them down the hall. The alien just stared. There, lying out of a maintenance closest was a headless body, still twitching.

Jimmy slowly walked down the hall, his rifle humming with energy. "It's okay!" he shouted. "Nothing wrong here. It's Melvin Griddle. The project leader."

Suddenly, a wicked claw burst up through Melvin's dead body and plunged into Jimmy's chest. The young man gagged and dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. A low unearthly howl resounded as a black form pulled itself out of a hole in the floor.

"No!" Victor cried as he threw himself forward, his laser rifle spitting plasma in the creature's direction. The creature turned and took a backhanded swipe at Victor. He screamed and crumpled against the wall.

Now was the first time anybody got a good look at the creature. It had a large bulbous head filled with sharp, serrated teeth. It had a massive chitinous carapace that gleamed with the blood of its victims. Three diamond hard talons laced each claw. Two wicked scythes curved out of the beast's chest. Its wicked red eyes glared in the darkness, made all the more ominous by the blue fog.

"Emperor help us...A GENESTEALER!" Grant roared as he opened up with his rifle and began pelting the creature. The Tyranid flicked its head in Grant's direction and hissed. With the laser bolts bouncing off of its hide, it began stalking towards Grant, using its enormous claws to cover its face.

The creature halted in front of Grant and raised one of its claws. Suddenly, a piercing bolt of blue energy tore the creature's arm off, and the electronic feedback arced across the beast. It collapsed in an unconscious heap on the floor of the station.

Grant turned and looked at the mysterious alien, whose gun was smoking. "Thanks," Grant huffed, "I owe you one."

The alien glanced down at Grant and commanded, "No survivors." It raised its weapon at Grant's stomach. Grant felt a burning feeling in his gut as the beam hit, and then his vision faded as the energy slowly tore his body apart.

**Epilogue:** The alien lifted a small comm.-set to it's head. "The guardsmen have been eliminated."

"Good. And the Griddle's experiment?" A mysterious voice replied.

"Incapacitated and ready for transport."

"I will send a ship to get you and the creature out of there. Move away from the premises. We will destroy the base from orbit."

"Yes, General. It shall be done."


End file.
